


Space Junk

by SassyLassy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aliens, M/M, Space AU, junkers in space more or less, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:40:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9340211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyLassy/pseuds/SassyLassy
Summary: The galaxy is a forever stretching, never ending place. Space is beautiful, full of wonders and light. However it also has its dark places, it's ugly places.Here are two such ugly places; Junkrat and Roadhog.





	

The sirens echoed down the halls but it mattered little to the rioting inmates. They fell on deaf ears as they screamed, roared, and swung their weapons be them clubs, fists, or whatever thing they may have ripped off the walls to use to bludgeon those who dare oppose them. The prison colony on Vikmor 5 had not seen this sort of activity in eons. This prison wasn't the greatest in the galaxy sector, that much was true, but never had there been a riot of this magnitude. 

There were sudden explosions that seemed to ripple throughout the whole asteroid. Walls cracked, floors crumbled, and inmates who had been fighting a moment ago were fleeing to avoid being crushed by debris. 

A security officer transport was, at this moment, speeding as quickly as it could down a long corridor that was used exclusively for transporting fresh inmates to their punishment. How many heavy heads had been hung, or defiantly held up, as they were transported to their fates? A number too high to count… even if you had the time.

The officers on Vikmor 5 were of the same species. It was near their home planet after all, so the four armed, three eyed creatures ran the prison asteroid with coordinated schedules, and strict rules. They were five foot five in height, short yes but tough where it mattered. All uniforms were the same, an off putting shade of green with blue stripes that showed their ranks on their arms. Long tails hung down the back of their spines, so the pants reflected this with a gaping hole to allow tail access.

Presently operating this transporter was an alien wearing one of those uniforms; however it did not fit him. For one, he was six foot five in height. He only had two arms and two legs, and no tail. He was so far from what the prison guards looked like, the fact he'd gone to the trouble of putting on a uniform seemed almost comedic. 

Junkrat was laughing hysterically as his hands gripped the steering components. His laughter sounded like high pitched chittering. The hair patches on his head were fanned out, much like an Earthlings Cockatoos crest when they were especially proud of themselves. Why? Because Junkrat was proud of himself. His yellow, spotted skin glistened under the lights as he passed beneath them. 

Right eye was open and unblinking since it was not his flesh eye. A red lens implanted into his eye socket after he'd lost his original eye aided him in the loss sight. Hell, it improved it. He could control it, changing it to read infrared, movement only, even zooming and enhancing things he saw and calculations that would ensure his survivability when it came to the more dangerous situations he'd find himself in.

So glad he'd gotten it back before escaping this terrible place. He wouldn't have felt whole without his eye, much like he'd feel incomplete without his mechanical right arm, and leg. 

The cruiser just passed under a vent and it was at that second something huge, heavy, and muscular landed on it. The sudden force threw the transporter off course a little, Junkrat shrieked loudly as he fought for control over it to stop himself from crashing while looking over his shoulder, hair now flat and sharp against his head.

"You tryin' ta kill me??" he asked, though what he said vocally was nothing more than clicks, chirps, and hisses. 

His new passenger hefted, and got to his feet. While Junkrat was tall, at 6'5, his new passenger dwarfed him. He was seven foot plus, wide, muscular, and intimidating to look at. Face half hidden with large goggles that encased his eyes, three large spikes that folded back in a windswept look atop his head, and a nose that could be compared to that of a pigs from earth snorted noisily. A ring hung from it.

"You survived." was the harsh answer, though like Junkrat what he voiced was low heavy grunting, guttural vocalizations that made anything not fastened down vibrate. 

This was Roadhog. His hide was a shade of blue, riddled with black rock-like formations that jutted up here and there along his body. The clusters formed closer together on his shoulders, his knuckles, and down his spine. The towering, heavy creature grabbed onto something to stop himself from falling over, that thing being Junkrat. "Get my suit."

"Hold ya holsters you big oaf," Junkrat scolded, "We ain't reached that part of the roid yet!"

He grumbled to himself under his breath, again nothing more than chirps and clicks, as they finally happened upon the holding bay. The place where they kept all the belongings of the inmates that weren't threatening or dangerous. Now his eye, that had been taken away and kept somewhere else considering how powerful it was. Without it, Junkrat was almost a normal Fahkenstan from the planet Fahkes. A planet of insect-like creatures with lifespans that could span 200 years or more, however that only happened if they took extra good care of themselves.

The fact they were a race of scavengers who traversed dangerous materials, junk, and other such hazardous things the oldest any of their species had reached had been 94. Junkrat was still in his prime, only 74 rotations around their sun he was. A babe in the woods, that’s what he was. What was he doing so far from his colony? From his kind, his mothers, his fathers, brothers and sisters?

A question you could ask equally of his co-conspirator, Roadhog. Why was a warrior, a gladiator and victor of many conquests and battles doing in jail? His was a noble species, they were born and bred for war. Taught as soon as they could stand on their two hooved feet how to fight. The weak babies were culled to ensure their species had only the strongest, toughest broods. Roadhog however, he had been the strongest his mother had birthed in all her years. Proud she was of him, able to stand at only four months, his first kill at five months. 

Like Junkrat, he too did not belong here. He should be home on his ship, or his planet, with his concubines. Yet here he was, now breaking into the holding bay to get his suit back from where it had been put. The black, thick, leather like suit protected his already tough hide even more. A hole for his tiny tail. Gloves for his massive hands but holes on the knuckles to give room for the natural brass knuckles that grew there.

And finally his rings. Tugging them onto all his fingers the hulking alien paused by a mirror to admire himself. Quickly he checked the two breathing tubes that were surgically attached to his cheeks. They were unscathed, unhurt. The two tubes stretched back to the breathing apparatus that was attached to his shoulder blades. From there, the machine stretched to his lungs.

Strong as his species were, they had set backs. Heavy, hulking creatures had health problems. Their hearts, their lungs, their organs were pushed to their limit. They could easily burn out far too soon if they were not looked after and unlike Junkrats species who threw away their lifespans as if they didn't matter, the Rudlitch race took care of themselves. All had enhancers to help their hearts, their lungs, and Roadhog was no different.

"You good?" Junkrat asked, having ripped off the guard uniform, leaving himself there in his hatching day suit.

"I'm damn fine." Roadhog answered.

That earned him chittering laughter from the Fahkenstan. A grating noise he had put up with for a long time now. Ever since the skinny, spiky, double amputee had been dropped into the prison. It was with a soft groan at the back of his throat Roadhog realized how accustomed he'd come to this noise.

One noise he still wasn't comfortable with? That siren. Picking up his blaster, he aimed it to the nearest speaker and pulled the trigger. An expulsion of blackness erupted from the large blaster, encased the speaker and a second later it imploded on itself. The silence was deafening, and a blessing.

"Let's go." he said, re-holstering the blaster against his back as he picked up two more of his weapons.

"I was afraid you was gonna wanna stay here!" Junkrat scoffed. "C'mon pig face. Let's get offa this dump."

"Agreed." he grunted as he hung one weapon that resembled a hook on his belt. It instantly curled up on itself, so the pointed, spikey parts were not about to scratch or get caught on anything. Or anyone. 

Back on the transporter they went, and Junkrat pushed the virtual pedal to the metal and it sped along the long corridor as things suddenly began to exploding behind them. Roadhog glanced behind them, watching as the blasts filled the space with plumes of smoke and fire. He looked to Junkrat as a slow smile spread on his face, and he began to laugh. A loud, rumbling noise that echoed with the explosions Junkrat was setting off.

"Docking station, straight ahead!!" Junkrat shouted as the only tunnel that connected from the rest of the astroid to the station crumbled, blocking all within. It'd only take a few days to break them out. No doubt the nearest law abiding folk would be on their way, alarms would be screaming in the immediate galaxy to alert to the riots and the break out. 

The station where all the ships were held was a sight to see. Massive and clean, but also looking equally lived in, ships hung suspended in the air along the walls. The exit doors were sealed, the air lock on, and as Junkrat landed the transporter he leaped from it with a surprising amount of grace you wouldn't give one of his species. He lands with a heavy thud and runs to the nearest ship, a junked up thin that looked like it had been caught in one too many asteroid showers.

It was his ship.

The Bomber, he called it, and it lived up to its name.

Roadhog followed, at his own pace. He saw no reason to run just yet, since running really put a strain on his breathing apparatus and he rather not end this high of a day wheezing and spluttering. However he did make a face at the ship as Junkrat opened a lowering landing ramp and scurried up it like a cockroach. Inside it was just as filthy; space junk that had been salvaged and saved from the darkness of space littered the insides. Roadhog barely had room to squeeze his way inside as the ramp shut behind him.

"Alright!" Junkrat chirped as he got into the drivers seat.

The question was on his lips, Roadhog had been about to ask just how they were going to get out of the docking bay with that large air lock door shut but suddenly there was explosions. They began with a loud sharp sound that only lasted a split second before the outside space began leaking in. Sound vanished in the void. The explosions without flames remained, breaking against the metal, searing a hole big enough.

And still Junkrat laughed. 

Then the Bomber was shooting through the hole that was just big enough for it, Junkrat working against controls built by himself for himself, and he hit a few more buttons before pushing a lever suspended on the roof. Outside the stars went from stationary objects to sudden lines. They were in hyper space. Travelling far quicker than they could normally.

Too bad he didn't give any warning and Roadhog went ass overhead, rolling backwards into the garbage within the ship. His loud grunting and swearing caught Junkrats attention and he turned his head, looking back at him, and quickly leaped away from the controls which woudn't need his attention for a while just yet. Worried chirps filled the air as he made his way over to Roadhog, scooting himself under a thick arm to lift it.

"You 'right mate?"

"Hhhgrrrgghhhhh."

"Oh good, ya lived!" Junkrat chirped before tapping the end of Roadhogs nose with his mechanical finger. "Hate ta lose ya so soon into all this!"

Before Roadhog could give a witty retort Junkrat was pushing his lips against his own, kissing him in a sharp, harsh kind of way that only had the smallest sprinkle of warmth to it. Junkrat stops as quickly as he begun, before leaping away from Roadhog to gesture to the ship. "So whaddya think??"

Grunting, Roadhog glanced around. He gave a grunt, shifted, and pulled something crumpled and metallic from under him. It most likely had been in one piece up until a minute ago. Tossing it away, Roadhog made a low grunting noise. "It suits you."

"Aw, really?" Junkrat chirped. "Thank you!"

It wasn't meant to be a compliment but he wasn't about to correct him. Getting to his feet at last, he lumbered over towards the controls sine Junkrat had moved back to them. "You remember the co-ordinates?" he asked.

"Course I did mate! Mind like a steel trap," Junkrat tapped his forehead rapidly. "Once I hear somethin' I'm not gonna forget it! Especially when it's bout treasure! You know I'm all 'bout that!"

"Mmh." Roadhog nodded, looking out towards space, the lines of stars that continued to zoom past them like a never ending shower of shooting stars. It was almost beautiful. Dangerous and deadly as space travel was, it was just as beautiful, and he loved it.

Just like Junkrat.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a picture, drawn by Captn Cameleon, in case you need a visual representation of how these two nerds look in this story.
> 
> You can follow Britt on their [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Capt_Chameleon), and you could also check out their Patreon [here!](https://www.patreon.com/chameleonart)


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